


The Reward

by katbear



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Adventure, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-09-03
Updated: 2001-09-03
Packaged: 2017-10-21 15:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/226603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katbear/pseuds/katbear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Qui-Gon's attempt to do a good deed has unexpected consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Reward

**Author's Note:**

> Archive: MA, AO3  
> Category: romance, a bit of adventure  
> Rating: PG13  
> Pairing: Q/O
> 
> Feedback: Appreciated.
> 
> Thanks: To the beta readers who helped with various comments  
> and encouragement (HesperBlaze, Thalia). All mistakes are  
> definitely my own since I can't resist tweaking.
> 
> Warnings: A bit of language, sexual references and eventually  
> an implied m/m relationship. If you don't like male-male  
> relationships you are in the wrong place. No profit is  
> intended or made.
> 
> Spoilers: None, pre-TPM.  
> Disclaimer: The boys belong to George Lucas; I'm just playing with them.
> 
> ~ ~ Character internal thoughts

Qui-Gon was vaguely aware of the tuneless whistle coming from  
the kitchen where his apprentice was cleaning up after  
breakfast. He smiled softly at the underlying hum of  
contentment in their bond, a comforting background noise in his  
head as he went through his morning messages. Routine for the  
most part, few held his attention as his thoughts wandered over  
the upcoming activities of the day. The sudden flashing of a  
red-flagged message caused him to sit up straighter and lean  
forward, brow furrowed in concentration.

"Obi-Wan," he called out a few minutes later, "it looks like we  
have a mission coming up."

The sudden spike of dismay over the bond surprised him; there  
was no visible sign of distress except perhaps the slightest of  
hesitations before the dutiful response came back, "Yes,  
Master."

Qui-Gon looked closely at his Padawan as he emerged from the  
small kitchen wiping his hands on a towel. Nothing appeared to  
be out of the ordinary; a young man entering the prime of life  
at twenty, short but strong and lithe of limb, quietly  
confident demeanor, rusty sand braid neatly woven, blue-green  
eyes . . . . Ah, the eyes were a tad darker than usual, the  
shoulders barely drooped, and if he concentrated hard enough,  
Qui-Gon could detect a faint rumble of fatigue and resentment  
leaking across the bond.

"If you have the dates, Master, I will contact my instructors  
and get the assignments I will need to work on while we're  
gone," said Obi-Wan pleasantly, no hint of disturbance in voice  
or manner.

Qui-Gon was growing concerned. His Padawan had long ceased to  
complain about their exceptionally heavy duty load except for  
the occasional long-standing joke about his dislike for cold  
planets; even an unspoken protest was out of character these  
days. At the mention of dates, Qui-Gon automatically turned  
his attention to their joint calendar. Comparing the proposed  
mission dates to the existing entries, he almost missed it. A  
brief note in small letters five days from now, just Bant Nday,  
but it triggered a full recollection and his own pang of  
dismay. ~ How could I have forgotten! ~ he chastised himself.  
~ It's almost the only thing he has talked about for the last  
two months. ~ Almost all of Obi-Wan's oldest friends were  
scheduled to be on Coruscant the next few weeks, a  
particularly rare event these days, and they had planned to  
get together to celebrate Bant's Nameday. Knowing how little  
Obi-Wan asked for himself and how much he had been looking  
forward to this special event, Qui-Gon made a sudden decision.

"Actually, I have some questions about this mission. Let me do  
some more research before you make any final plans," said Qui-  
Gon.

"Yes, Master," replied Obi-Wan. After neatly folding the towel  
and dropping it back on a kitchen counter, the young man paused  
by the terminal, carefully refraining from examining the  
screen. "Is there anything else I can do to prepare for the  
mission?"

"Thank you, but I think it would be better to wait until I have  
more information. I'll see you at fourteenth hour in the  
training hall for our sparring session."

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan bowed and retreated to his room to  
gather his datapads for his morning classes.

Qui-Gon waited until his apprentice had left their quarters  
before turning back to the terminal. He sat quietly for  
several minutes as he reviewed the mission tasking and  
considered his options. The transport for this mission was  
scheduled to leave in two days, so whatever he was going to do  
must be done quickly. Working carefully, he composed a  
succinct message to the Mission Committee requesting a delay or  
change in missions, then reread it twice before transmitting.  
Noting that he still had time before the start of the seminar  
in which he was a panel member, Qui-Gon sent a courtesy note to  
his former Master to let him know he had asked for the change  
and why.

The day passed quietly enough for both Master and Padawan.  
Returning alone from the afternoon training session while Obi-  
Wan went to the library, Qui-Gon found his message light  
flashing. Anxiously pulling up the latest mail, he was  
disappointed to find that his request had been refused. He  
immediately called the Council secretariat to find out if he  
could get in to see the Council to appeal the decision.

"Ah, Master Jinn," said the pale, white-haired Knight who  
answered. "I am Knight Frajal. What can I do for you?"

Qui-Gon quickly explained his request and asked if there were  
any openings in the Council's schedule.

Apologetically, the Knight replied, "I am very sorry, Master  
Jinn. The Council has been quite busy all day and still has  
several more issues on their agenda this afternoon." The  
Knight paused thoughtfully, bushy brows drawn low over orange  
eyes. "If it is truly urgent, you can wait for an opening if  
you wish. It may be a few hours before they will see you." He  
coughed delicately, looking carefully around his space before  
continuing softly. "To be fair, Master Jinn, I have to tell  
you that the budget was the major item this morning and the  
discussion turned quite testy. Also, the last few agenda items  
are referrals from the disciplinary committee, which tends to  
mean that most of the Council members are not likely to be in a  
pleasant mood by the end of the day. Are you sure you really  
want to see them?"

Qui-Gon grimaced a bit. ~ They seldom seem to be in a good  
mood when I'm in the room. ~ Aloud, he replied, "I appreciate  
your consideration, but I'm afraid it is important that I see  
them today if possible. I will just have to take my chances, I  
suppose."

"As you wish, sir. I will enter your name on the list of  
appointments, Master Jinn." Smiling politely, the Knight  
terminated the call.

Qui-Gon left a note for Obi-Wan to let him know that he would  
be gone for a while and to go ahead and eat the latemeal  
without him. Deciding he may as well do something productive  
while he waited, Qui-Gon tucked some datapads into the pockets  
of his voluminous robe and set out for the Council chamber.

Four hours later Qui-Gon decided that the designer of the  
Council antechamber must have had a significant sadistic  
streak. Surely it was impossible for a wooden bench to  
actually be *this* hard without deliberate intent, and the  
acoustics of the room magnified every sound so that all of the  
occupants tended to quickly settle into an uncomfortable,  
unmoving silence. During those four hours the Master had  
watched the unfailingly polite Knight Frajal usher a parade of  
beings in and out of the Council chamber, and it seemed they  
almost all came out looking unhappier than when they went in.  
The large room was finally empty except for a large bear of a  
Master and his young humanoid Padawan. The boy sat with wide  
eyes downcast and hands nervously rubbing together as his  
master tried to soothe him with a paw on his shoulder.  
Remembering the secretary's earlier comment about the last  
items on the agenda being disciplinary cases, Qui-Gon felt a  
surge of sympathy for the lad as Knight Frajal came to escort  
them into the main chamber.

Shifting his weight in a vain attempt to restore some feeling  
to his numb posterior, Qui-Gon reminded himself why he was  
here, a subject he had been examining quite a bit the last few  
hours. Looking at the Master and Padawan across from him, Qui-  
Gon had been reminded of the many times in the last seven years  
he or he and his Padawan had sat in this same room, waiting for  
debriefings, orders or chastisement. Seven years of watching  
a gawky boy and an awkward relationship grow into a fine young  
man and a firmly grounded friendship. He smiled ruefully. It  
hadn't been easy by any stretch of the imagination; it seemed  
they both had a stubborn streak when it came to things they  
thought were important and Qui-Gon was all too aware of the  
discomfort his disagreements with the Council often caused his  
Padawan.

The smile warmed as Qui-Gon thought of his apprentice. Obi-Wan  
had proved to be a hard worker, devoted to the care of his  
Master, and a remarkably adept swordsman, even if occasionally  
a bit too theatrical for his Master's taste. He still had a  
lot to learn, of course, it would be several years before he  
was fully ready for his Trials, but Qui-Gon was secretly proud  
of the progress his Padawan had made as a person and as a Jedi.  
A fond light danced in the blue eyes as he thought about how  
much he enjoyed the close emotional relationship they had  
developed. Their bond was among the strongest of any in the  
Temple, and they had gone beyond the teacher-student  
relationship to become good friends, a deep friendship that  
transcended their occasional disagreements and the hardships of  
the Jedi life.

A large hand emerged from within the confines of the dark robe,  
knuckles rubbing thoughtfully along the edge of the bearded  
chin as a sigh escaped. Deep regrets often haunted his  
thoughts and dreams that they had never developed the physical  
intimacy so many other pairs enjoyed. The brief phase of hero  
worship at sixteen had quickly passed as Obi-Wan matured and  
explored his own sexuality, seemingly preferring the company of  
those within a few years of his own age. Although it was a  
disappointing development, Qui-Gon was nonetheless grateful  
that Obi-Wan seemed to be happy with the discreet, carefully  
chosen liaisons in which he now occasionally indulged. Even if  
it had not been forbidden for a master to initiate intimacy,  
his own unrequited feelings were something he would never force  
on his Padawan, however thorny it made his own life.

As his thoughts moved onward, a rueful snort echoed in the  
empty room as Qui-Gon crossed his arms on his chest. He slid  
down on his tailbone, long legs stretching out it in front of  
him as he cocked one booted ankle over the other. In some ways  
the last two or three years had been just as difficult if not  
more so than their first year for both of them; Obi-Wan was  
climbing the slippery slope from youth to young manhood at the  
same time that his training and their mission workload grew  
constantly more difficult. Both master and apprentice were  
coming to terms with their feelings and hormones in the midst  
of a seemingly endless stream of missions. The young man  
gained in confidence and patience as his skills improved and he  
learned to control and focus his emotional and physical urges  
while the older man adjusted to their changing relationship,  
giving more trust and freedom as the apprentice developed,  
encouraging him to think independently despite the occasional  
argument that resulted, and firmly locking his physical desires  
away into his personal cache of `might have beens'. Although  
more than once they had both doubted it was possible, in the  
end patience and perseverance had seen them both come through  
relatively unscathed and stronger for the experience.

Another sigh as the tall Jedi sat up and shifted his weight  
once more, this time an expression of remorse as the blue eyes  
darkened. In the normal course of things there was little  
enough that Qui-Gon could do to reward his Padawan and show his  
appreciation; they were often so busy that a smile or a word of  
praise was all they had time for, and there were few material  
things the apprentice desired. Looking toward the Council  
doors, the chin came up and a resolute smile settled into  
place. Qui-Gon was determined to do his best to win one of the  
rarest and most treasured prizes he could for his Obi-Wan, time  
off with friends.

Qui-Gon stood up and stretched as he watched Knight Frajal open  
the wide doors to the Council chamber. The Master and Padawan  
came out, the boy sobbing openly as tears streamed down his  
face and the Master rumbling angrily under his breath.

The pair walked slowly through the anteroom, pausing beside  
Qui-Gon as the Master gathered his charge to his side. "You  
going in there?" he growled, a paw jerking disgustedly in the  
direction of the room he had just left.

"Yes, I am," Qui-Gon replied quietly.

"Watch yourself, then. The bloody bastards are in a right fine  
mood today." Snarling angrily, he tried to console his  
apprentice as they headed for the exit.

Knight Frajal smiled and shrugged apologetically. "You are the  
last appointment for the day, Master Jinn. The Council will  
see you now if you still want to go in."

Reminding himself firmly to be patient and hold his temper,  
Qui-Gon entered the Council chamber. He was immediately struck  
by the sense of discord and disharmony swirling through the  
Force. Taking a quick look around as he walked, he noted that  
Poof's head was weaving more erratically than usual, the  
normally placid Yaddle was glaring at Rancisis, Adi Gallia was  
sitting rigidly and staring determinedly out the window into  
the dark evening sky, and Yoda was huddled in his chair looking  
disgusted and every bit of his eight hundred plus years.  
Reaching the center of the room, Qui-Gon turned and bowed to  
the two senior Councilors, noting that Mace was  
uncharacteristically impatiently drumming his fingers on the  
arm of his chair. ~ I would have to pick a budget day to have  
to ask for a favor ~ Qui-Gon sighed internally.

"Master Yoda, Master Windu, Councilors, good evening," said  
Qui-Gon politely.

"Master Jinn, you requested permission to speak to the Council.  
I assume it is about your earlier request to change your  
assigned mission?" said Windu brusquely.

"Yes, Master Windu. I would like to discuss the possibility of  
exchanging the mission or delaying it."

"You're the fifth one in the last two weeks complaining about  
his assignment. Do you think the Mission Committee just draws  
names out of a bowl for these?"

"No, Master Windu. I do not wish to complain, I just wanted to  
ask if we could make an adjustment . . ."

"Same thing," growled Master Tiin. "Always complaining about  
things. What is there to discuss, Windu? We already know  
there aren't enough Knights available so he's got to go."

"Actually, I am not asking to be released from the mission, I  
don't mind going on the mission at all," said Qui-Gon.

"Then why are you here if there's no problem with the mission,"  
grumped Master Koon. His expression was unreadable behind his  
mask, but there was a spike of impatience in the Force as he  
spoke.

"If I could just explain," said Qui-Gon patiently, "all I want  
is to delay the mission if that is possible."

"Not possible," said Windu flatly. "You have to be there for a  
specific set of ceremonies that start on the set date. There  
are representatives from four different systems involved and  
this must go off as scheduled."

"I understand, Master Windu. In that case, I would like to ask  
that my Padawan be excused from this mission," replied Qui-Gon.

"Again, not possible. The treaty obligations quite clearly  
call for a minimum of two Jedi. If that is all . . . ?"

"Well, no, Master Windu, surely there must be another  
solution."

"I want to know why his Padawan can't go with him," interjected  
Master Tiin. "I didn't see his name on the sick list or the  
mandatory training list, so it's his duty to go. I thought by  
now Kenobi was a little old to be whining about missions."

"Master Tiin, Padawan Kenobi did not complain about the  
mission. He is quite prepared to go and does not know that I  
am asking for the change," said Qui-Gon, reminding himself  
again that Patience is a Virtue.

"Well, I don't see what the fuss is about; just go on the  
mission. Force knows we're already spread thin with most of  
the Knights at the Veralian Temple down with an epidemic and  
more requests for assistance coming in all the time," said  
Master Piell.

"Yes, I agree. There is far too much work and not enough  
Knights to go around. And if the Senate doesn't increase the  
funding for our programs, we're not even going to be able to -  
" added Master Rancisis.

"Oh, please, don't start on that again," interrupted Master  
Koth wearily, rubbing his forehead and looking very pained. "I  
thought we finished that discussion this morning."

"Councilors, if you will let me explain . . .," Qui-Gon tried  
to get a quiet word in as the bickering threatened to expand.

"Order," snarled Windu, banging a hand down on the arm of his  
chair. "I know it has been a very long and very difficult day,  
but this is the last thing we have. Let him have his say and  
be done with it."

Qui-Gon waited patiently a moment for the grumbling to die down  
before he bowed again and started quietly. "Thank you, Master  
Windu. Please let me say first, that no one is trying to get  
out of anything. I will gladly do whatever work is necessary.  
My concern is for my Padawan. He is an excellent Padawan, as  
his performance and academic records will attest. He has made  
a great deal of progress in his studies despite being off  
planet frequently and has worked very hard toward his goal of  
becoming a Jedi Knight. I am concerned for him at the moment  
because we have worked exceptionally hard these last two years  
on a lot of difficult missions. In looking at our records, I  
found that we have been away over eighty percent of the time  
during those two years, and we just returned from another  
mission a few days ago. I believe that Padawan Kenobi has  
earned your consideration for some time off with his friends  
for a few days, many of whom he has not seen in years and may  
not be able to see again for months or years."

Pausing to look around the group, Qui-Gon made sure he still  
had everyone's attention before continuing. "Obi-Wan Kenobi  
has an excellent understanding of his duties, and he has  
fulfilled those duties without complaint to the point of  
serious injury as well as physical and mental exhaustion on  
many occasions. I would not be asking for this consideration  
if I did not believe absolutely that my Padawan has earned this  
rare opportunity for some small bit of personal pleasure and  
that it would be in his best interests for his long term  
personal well-being." He paused for a moment and spread his  
hands before continuing passionately. "We ask so much of our  
young people; can we never give them anything back in return?"

For the first time since he had entered the room, Qui-Gon felt  
a decrease in the angry, irritated Force swirls sweeping  
through the room and began to feel a faint bit of hope. That  
hope was quickly dashed, however.

"Master Jinn, I am sure everyone understands your concern for  
your Padawan. Both of you have been working very hard and are  
no doubt both long overdue for some well deserved time off,"  
said Windu, an unspoken apology softening his voice. "But this  
is just not the right time and I'm afraid the answer must still  
be no. Perhaps after you get back we can do something for you  
then."

Qui-Gon stood silently for a moment, eyes downcast and heart  
heavy. Steeling himself for one last plea, he looked around  
the room for a moment, then drew a deep breath before replying  
to Mace. "I appreciate your consideration in hearing my  
request. This mission is supposed to last a month, however,  
and many of Obi-Wan's friends will have scattered again by the  
time we get back. Is there nothing at all that can be done?  
Please?"

The entire room was silent, even the Force eddies dying away.  
Whatever their opinions of the man or their past history of  
antagonism and mistrust, all of the Council members were  
touched by the sincerity of the plea. More than a few were  
also shocked that the infamous Qui-Gon Jinn would even be  
willing to humble himself before the Council to such an extent.

Ever compassionate, Master Billaba was the first to stir.  
"Master Windu, is there no other possible solution?"

Windu's fingers had stilled their silent drumming. "I am truly  
sorry, Qui-Gon. The Mission Committee did look closely at this  
assignment because it was so soon after you got back from your  
last mission. When you appealed, I reviewed it personally and  
was very concerned about pulling your Padawan out of his  
classes again so quickly. But we are having to cover a lot of  
the missions from here because of the illness at Verali, and I  
really don't have another qualified team that can leave in  
time."

Master Yoda finally stirred. "Perhaps a way there is," he  
rasped, looking thoughtfully at his former Padawan.

Everyone's eyes turned to the small Master.

"Master BayVelen the qualifications has. Available he can be."

"Well, his Padawan is a bit young but probably acceptable for  
the job. Master BayVelen, though, is teaching several Initiate  
courses in math and history right now. Who would replace him?"  
responded Windu.

"Today was Knight Whuyjor released from infirmary. Prevent him  
from teaching broken arm and leg will not."

Windu thought for a moment, brow furrowed, before replying  
carefully and slowly, "I agree he could teach now, but then  
that still leaves the question of that other mission, Master  
Yoda. We were going to require Knight Whuyjor to take that job  
as soon as he was physically able, although they have been  
pressing us for someone to come out much sooner than that."

As Qui-Gon stood silently listening, there was a brief buzz of  
conversation around the room. Master Gallia spoke up, "Master  
Windu, we agreed that was a punitive mission. Surely you  
wouldn't ask Master Jinn to take it?"

Windu sighed as he looked at Master Yoda. "Well?" he asked  
softly, raising one eyebrow.

Yoda sat up straight, tapped his stick, then looked up at Qui-  
Gon. "Master Jinn, a mission for one Jedi there is, only one  
Jedi *can* go, but unpleasant it will be, very unpleasant  
indeed. Interested, are you?"

Qui-Gon responded without hesitation, "If it means Obi-Wan can  
stay here, I will take the mission, Master."

Windu shook his head. "I wouldn't jump so fast, my friend.  
The mission is on Diozak and you would be staying in an old  
church with almost no amenities at the height of the hot  
season. The three major clans there are highly paranoid but  
had finally agreed to an election supervised by Republic  
troops. Now that the election is over, though, they are so  
paranoid they don't trust anyone to count the final ballots, so  
all the ballots are in locked boxes in this church being  
guarded by Republic and local troops while they wait for a Jedi  
to show up to do the counting. All three clans would have  
people watching you the entire time you are there, and I do  
mean literally watching you every second of the day and night."

"I can handle that," said Qui-Gon confidently.

"That's not the worst part." Mace looked at Yoda again before  
turning back to Qui-Gon and continuing softly. "They are so  
paranoid and fearful that they asked for a Jedi but will only  
allow one. And while you are on their planet, they require  
that you wear a visible Force restraining collar except when  
you are actually in the vault counting ballots."

"Oh," said Qui-Gon weakly, the silence in the room almost  
deafening as he felt a sour taste rising in the back of his  
throat. Yoda looked at him sympathetically; knowing how  
connected to the Living Force his Padawan was, Yoda was  
particularly aware how difficult it would be for him to be  
deprived of it.

Qui-Gon licked his lower lip. "Obi-Wan does get to stay here,  
yes?" he finally asked, looking at Windu and Yoda.

"Yes. If you take this mission, your Padawan stays here.  
Since you will actually be doing us a favor if you take this  
mission immediately, we will also try to get both of you some  
time off together after his finishes his exams for his current  
classes," replied Windu. Yoda nodded in agreement.

Swallowing hard and telling his stomach to keep its contents to  
itself, Qui-Gon bowed. "I will take the mission. When do I  
leave?" Qui-Gon felt an almost palpable sigh of relief from  
the Council members resonate through the Force.

"The Senate has already agreed to provide a Republic courier  
ship for this job. The ship is at dock 32. We will notify the  
pilot to be ready to leave at seventh hour in the morning. I  
will have the mission details sent to you within an hour."

"I will be there. Thank you." Qui-Gon bowed to the Council  
again, then swiftly made his way out of the chamber before he  
could change his mind.

************* ****************

 

Obi-Wan was diligently studying at their small table when Qui-  
Gon returned to their quarters. The young man immediately got  
up to take his Master's cloak, then went to the kitchen to  
prepare tea while Qui-Gon went to the terminal to check his  
messages. Qui-Gon could feel the curiosity buzzing along the  
bond as Obi-Wan brought out a steaming cup of hot tea. Despite  
a brief grimace of affectionate exasperation, the questions  
went unasked as his apprentice had long since learned that the  
Master would dispense information in his own good time. After  
finishing his messages and setting up his mail to let his  
correspondents know he was offplanet, Qui-Gon took the rest of  
his tea and sat on the low couch. For several minutes he  
simply sat and relaxed, enjoying the anticipation as he watched  
the young man unsuccessfully trying to concentrate on his  
studies and ignore his Master's gaze.

Finally relenting as he watched the apprentice shift in his  
chair yet again, Qui-Gon called out, a small smile tugging at  
his lips. "Padawan, come here, please."

Obi-Wan swiftly came over to stand in front of his master,  
hands behind his back, outwardly the picture of a perfect  
Padawan. Now that he knew what to look for, however, Qui-Gon  
could detect the tense undercurrent of trepidation. "Yes,  
Master."

"I was able to get more information on the mission. I think  
you will be pleased to know that you will be able to attend  
Bant's Nameday celebration after all."

Basking in the radiant smile and huge surge of joy from his  
ecstatic apprentice, Qui-Gon almost thought he could see an  
aura around the young man, so powerful were the feelings of  
happiness he was unconsciously projecting. "That's wonderful,  
Master. That's about the best news I've had in ages. Just  
wait till I tell Bant, I'm sure she'll love to hear about it  
too." Obi-Wan turned to head toward the terminal with a light  
step, then paused. "The first part of the Nameday party is for  
everyone, including Masters. Can I tell Bant that you'll be  
coming, Master? We'd really like to have you there."

Qui-Gon smiled gently. "I would like to attend, but there is  
actually still a mission leaving shortly, it's just that I will  
be going by myself."

Obi-Wan paled as he dropped to his knees in front of Qui-Gon,  
the sudden conflict of feelings evident on his face. "But  
Master, if you have a mission, my place is at your side. It is  
my duty."

"Well, normally we would both go, of course. This assignment,  
though, is to go to Diozak to help resolve an election dispute  
and I'm afraid they will only allow one Jedi to come to their  
planet."

Over their bond, Qui-Gon could feel the elation battling with  
the guilt. Obi-Wan put his hands on Qui-Gon's knees. "Master,  
I should be with you, I want to be with you," he half  
whispered, anxiety turning his eyes dark.

"I know," said Qui-Gon gently. He leaned over to rumple the  
short hair, then gathered the smaller hands into his and held  
them. "It's only for three or four weeks, Obi-Wan. Mostly  
I'll just be the outside observer counting votes for them so  
it's not really dangerous. I suspect it will mostly be quite  
boring, actually." Qui-Gon smiled, trying to draw an answering  
response.

"There must be a way I can go with you, Master," said Obi-Wan,  
looking stubbornly into his Master's eyes. "That is where I  
belong, at your side. It doesn't seem right not to be there."

"No, Obi-Wan. The Diozakans are quite adamant, I'm afraid."  
Qui-Gon squeezed the other's hands, smiling and sending  
reassurance over the bond. "Don't worry, Padawan, I'll be back  
before you know it, working you harder than ever."

A half smile, a quick duck of the head. "Yes, Master. I'll  
take care of things back here."

"I know you will. But as long as you have to stay here anyway,  
I want you to promise me that you will enjoy yourself with your  
friends."

"Yes, Master," was the dutiful reply, but his heart wasn't  
entirely in it.

Qui-Gon released the hands to gently tip up the downcast face.  
"I'm serious, Obi-Wan. Of course I would like to have you  
with me, and I'll miss you, but it is not your fault you can't  
go on the mission, so there is no point in wasting time and  
energy on pointless feelings of guilt. Live in the moment and  
accept this gift from the Force. I want you to enjoy the party  
for both of us, and I expect to hear all about it when I get  
back. Promise?"

This time the smile was genuine. "Yes, Master." One hand  
reached up to grasp Qui-Gon's hand affectionately. "I promise  
to enjoy myself if you promise me you will take care of  
yourself, Master," Obi-Wan said firmly. There was a stubborn  
glint in his eyes as both hands then moved to grasp the  
Master's shoulders. "And I *will* hold you to that promise."

"Yes, Padawan," laughed Qui-Gon as he drew the young man up for  
a hug. It was not until much later that Qui-Gon would find out  
just how seriously Obi-Wan took that promise.

 

************* ****************

 

Obi-Wan rose early the next morning to prepare a special  
breakfast for his Master, afterwards carrying Qui-Gon's travel  
pack to the departure dock. Tucked safely inside Qui-Gon's  
cloak was a small locked box that he had picked up from the  
Training Master's vault. Not wanting his apprentice to be  
concerned, Qui-Gon had slipped out the previous evening while  
Obi-Wan was packing to obtain a Force dampening collar that was  
normally used only for special training exercises. Master and  
Padawan exchanged their final farewells at the foot of the  
battered courier ship's landing ramp.

A week later, Qui-Gon thought fondly back on that farewell as  
he watched the planet of Diozak grow larger in the viewport.  
It seemed that was the last time anything had gone right on  
what should have been a simple three day outbound journey. The  
Republic courier ship had lived up to its battered appearance;  
only a day out the main engines had seized up and quit. They  
had drifted for almost a full day before another ship responded  
to their distress signal; unfortunately it was a small one man  
vessel. Since his ship was too small to give them a tow, the  
pilot agreed to relay their message to the next planet he came  
across. While drifting for another half day, more components  
failed, notably in the air regeneration system; by the time an  
old freighter took them in tow the air was starting to get  
pretty ripe. The planet they ended up on was relatively low  
tech, and they could not get all the parts they needed. By  
dint of much sweat, ingenuity and some Force help from Qui-Gon,  
the five-being crew managed to patch up enough of the  
propulsion system to get them off planet and headed back for  
Diozak. Six days out from Coruscant they were limping along,  
the air smelling like old socks, the engines clanging and  
racketing at unpredictable intervals, the water leaving a  
metallic tang in the back of their throats and the only  
untainted food stocks an indeterminate grain cereal and several  
cases of legume soup. By the time they reached Diozak on the  
seventh day everyone was irritated, and even Qui-Gon had a  
headache from the noisome air. The pilot wanted to depart for  
a major repair base as soon as he dropped off his passenger, so  
while they were descending Qui-Gon sent off a report to the  
Council and a private message to his Padawan that they had  
arrived, he was safe and was about to meet with the native  
delegations.

When they set down, Qui-Gon was more than ready to disembark.  
Hoisting his travel pack, he was met by a blast of hot, humid  
air as the door opened. Looking out, he saw several dozen of  
what were evidently representatives of the three major clans  
and a lone figure in a Republic Marine officer's dull green  
field uniform. All those present were variations of reptilian  
species. The natives were generally short, although the  
tallest group, a more desert-adapted looking group with dry  
wrinkled brown-green skin in light khaki uniforms, came almost  
to Qui-Gon's shoulder. There seemed to be little to  
distinguish between the others except perhaps the ones in the  
dull brown uniforms seemed to have longer tails and snouts with  
more mottled greenish coloring than the bulbous-eyed ones in  
black uniforms. Recalling his mission notes, he decided the  
khaki uniforms must be Clan Jyewv, the brown uniforms must be  
Clan Tbanz and the black uniforms must be Clan Kovaz. As he  
got closer, Qui-Gon noted that the Marine bore quite a  
resemblance to a Mon Calamarian, but the head wasn't as large  
and the eyes were set much higher and deeper.

The Marine officer met him at the foot of the landing ramp.  
"Major Shaylass, Republic Marines. You are the Jedi observer, I  
hope."

"Master Qui-Gon Jinn, from the Jedi Temple at Coruscant. Yes,  
Major, I am here to help finalize the election results,"  
replied Qui-Gon with a small bow.

"About time, too. The locals aren't the only ones getting  
twitchy. Excuse me a moment, I have to turn in the outgoing  
mail and get the incoming stuff from the pilot before he runs  
out on us." Hefting a large box, he started toward the ramp.  
"Oh, yeah, I wouldn't make any sudden moves if I were you.  
Most of the locals are scared spitless about having a big, bad  
Jedi running around loose, and those are real guns they're all  
carrying." With a wink, the Major trotted up the ramp.

The Jedi Master was left standing in the hot sun to mull over  
that breezy introduction for a good fifteen minutes. Noticing  
that all three groups seemed to be watching each other as  
carefully as they were eyeing him and that there were an awful  
lot of appendages hovering very close to a lot of triggers, he  
was particularly careful not to make any moves at all.

Qui-Gon heard the thud of boots coming down the landing ramp  
but was not prepared for the hearty slap on the back that  
almost staggered him. He took an involuntary step forward but  
quickly righted himself as he heard numerous hands slapping  
leather and safeties being clicked off. He glanced around and  
saw a grinning Major Shaylass with a drab green duffel bag  
slung over his shoulder.

"Transport is this way, Master Jinn," the Major boomed as he  
took Qui-Gon's arm with his free hand. "Don't pay any  
attention to them. The official delegation will meet you at  
the church," he muttered sotto voce as they marched steadfastly  
toward a dirty green high-wheeled armored vehicle. The top was  
retracted and Qui-Gon saw that there was already a trio of  
armed locals in the third bench seat, one from each clan. Major  
Shaylass threw the duffel bag onto the second seat, then helped  
Qui-Gon up to sit next to it. He walked around the vehicle and  
hopped up into the front seat next to the driver. They took  
off with a roaring jerk, followed closely by an assorted trio  
of smaller wheeled vehicles.

The Major turned around in his seat to talk to Qui-Gon. "I  
hope you realize what sort of mess you're in for, Master Jinn.  
This is a hot, miserable stinking place and the locals are  
about the most paranoid bunch of misbegotten idiots I've ever  
seen," he said casually, raising his voice to be heard over the  
rumble of the engine. "Took years to get them to agree to a  
frapping election and then they don't trust each other to count  
the votes." He shook his head in disgust.

"How long have you been here?" Qui-Gon asked.

"When we started six months ago, we had a whole battalion of  
Marines here to oversee the election, and two months ago they  
left my company here to guard the ballots. Everywhere you  
turn, there's a bunch of locals underfoot, either watching you  
or watching each other. Can't even take a leak without  
practically tripping over the little bastards."

Qui-Gon glanced behind him at the three reptilians wedged  
unhappily onto the back seat.

Noticing the Jedi's concerned expression, the Marine barked a  
short laugh. "Don't worry about them. We all figured out  
months ago none of us care for each other's guts or trust each  
other any further than I can throw this vehicle." He grinned  
toothily as he continued, "Besides, they don't hear all that  
well. See in the dark, yeah, just like a rezcat, but they  
respond better to vibration than actual sound. Keep that in  
mind when you meet the mucky-mucks because you'll need to talk  
pretty loudly to get through to them."

"Thanks for the advice," replied Qui-Gon dryly.

The Major's expression turned serious as he gestured for Qui-  
Gon to lean closer. "Look, Master Jinn, this is a miserable  
assignment on a wretched little hellhole of an insignificant  
little pissant planet. We're here because we've orders to  
obey, but that doesn't mean we like it. My people know they  
can't leave until you finish your job and certify the vote.  
They'll protect you from any interference from the locals, but  
they're going to be watching just as close to make sure you  
don't screw anything up. You're not going to have a very easy  
time of it, I'm afraid."

"Well, as you say, we all have our orders to obey," Qui-Gon  
smiled a little. "I'll do my best to make sure we can all get  
out of here as quickly as possible."

Major Shaylass looked at the Jedi Master intently for a long  
moment, then nodded as if answering a question to himself. The  
rest of the journey passed relatively quickly as the Marine  
officer briefed Qui-Gon on the people and situation he would be  
facing.

 

*************** *************

 

The huge church looked more like a rocky fortress sitting at  
one end of a small valley, rising from the bank of a wide brown  
river as if it had grown there. As one of the few neutral  
sites on the planet, it had been the natural choice for a  
repository for the election ballots until a neutral counter  
arrived. As they pulled up in the main courtyard, Qui-Gon was  
surprised to notice a very faint trace of Force energy from  
somewhere in the structure, since few of the natives were known  
to have any Force abilities. Dismounting from the vehicle, he  
also noticed with distaste a spike of fear and disgust from the  
assembled troops. Straightening his sweat-soaked tunics, he  
could feel more than see the weapons in the upper windows that  
were trained on the new arrivals. A small squad of Marines  
fell in smartly behind them as Qui-Gon and the Major headed up  
a long flight of stone stairs toward the massive doors.

Major Shaylass smiled reassuringly as the doors began to swing  
open. "Remember, it's the religious leaders who have the power  
in this situation since they have possession of the ballots;  
they'll push hard if you let them get away with any shit.  
Every year they rotate the head position among the three clans;  
Clan Kovaz just took over a few weeks ago, and they  
particularly dislike outsiders. It was his predecessor from  
Clan Jyewv that pushed through the decision to ask for a Jedi  
to come in."

Qui-Gon only had time to nod as the group swept through the  
door and headed down a central aisle between rows of wooden  
benches. It was relatively dark and only nominally cooler.  
The atmosphere was oppressive; still air, dark hangings, troops  
along the walls and in the balconies. They pulled up at the  
end of the aisle, facing a small group of civilians.

"Welcome to Diozak, Master Jinn," said a tall willowy female in  
a long khaki dress. "I am Jer'sardt, head of Clan Jyewv." She  
gestured to her companions. "This is Tre'chobtez, head of Clan  
Tbanz." The eyes blinked rapidly as the mottled head inclined  
slightly. "And this is Kolnisheq, head of Clan Kovaz."  
Bulbous eyes stared at the Jedi Master, distaste evident in the  
dismissive wave of the black gloved hand.

"Jer'sardt, Tre'chobtez, Kolnisheq," replied Qui-Gon quietly  
with a small bow. "It is my honor to serve the people of  
Diozak."

"No doubt," said a thin voice dryly as a small entourage of  
beings in dark red robes entered from behind a set of hangings  
at the front of the church.

"Master Jinn, allow me to introduce the heads of the Nevinchay.  
They have the keeping of the ballots and will help oversee the  
counting," said Jer'sardt. "This is Nevarch Kygaro, Nevek  
Jor'vebn and Nevek Tan'liw."

Qui-Gon bowed again as he repeated the names politely. "I look  
forward to working with you to complete the task before us."

The Nevarch drew himself up and looked coldly at the Jedi. The  
effect was somewhat spoiled by the fact that he was little more  
than half Qui-Gon's height but he carried on nonetheless. "Let  
us be very clear on a few things, Jedi. You are here for one  
purpose, to make the official count. You will carry out that  
duty as quickly as possible and then leave."

Qui-Gon nodded and replied coolly. "It is always my intention  
to carry out my duties as efficiently and expeditiously as  
possible."

"While you are here, you will not leave this building, nor will  
you contaminate others with your presence or words. Did you  
bring the required device, Jedi?" snarled the Nevarch.

"If you are referring to the Force dampening collar, yes,"  
replied Qui-Gon impassively, determined to maintain a stoic  
front despite the obvious attempts at provocation. He removed  
the silver collar from the case. Simply holding the device in  
his hand caused an unpleasant tingling.

"We will test the device now," said the Nevarch. He gestured  
imperiously and two red robed priests appeared from a side  
door, a slight green figure shuffling between them. Qui-Gon  
was surprised to notice a low level of Force awareness in the  
native, clearly untrained, but definitely there. The Nevarch  
turned to Qui-Gon. "You will place the device on this  
servant."

"He is Force sensitive, Nevarch Kygaro. The effect will be  
quite unpleasant for an untrained being," said Qui-Gon, working  
hard to maintain a neutral expression.

"That is the point," said the Nevarch coolly. "To prove the  
device works it must be used on one who will react. This  
servant is expendable. Get on with it or leave."

Qui-Gon nodded just as coolly, again refusing to be drawn in by  
the challenge. The feelings of support he sensed emanating  
from the assembled Marines helped counteract the fear and  
hatred from the natives as well as the disgust roiling his gut  
as he bent to snap the collar around the unsuspecting servant's  
neck.

The high pitched scream echoed off the stone walls as the poor  
expendable dropped to the floor, hands scrabbling uselessly at  
the silver collar. Within a few moments the screaming had  
turned into a low moan as the servant curled into a fetal  
position, hands clutching his head. One of the priests prodded  
him with a foot; eliciting no response from the victim, the  
priest looked at the Nevarch and nodded.

"You may remove the collar now," said the Nevarch. Qui-Gon  
knelt to comply, pausing for a moment to send a surge of  
soothing Force energy to the stricken being, then stood back as  
the two priests dragged the mumbling servant away. The Nevarch  
continued, "The terms of the visit were explained to you?"

The Jedi Master stared down the sneering reptilian for a long  
moment, letting a hint of distaste flash across his face before  
nodding slightly. "While I am engaged in my duties of counting  
the vote in the vault, there will be guards and observers but  
no other restraints. Outside the vault, I agree to wear the  
device and remain under observation until I return to my  
transport and we are off the planet."

"Very well then, put it on," replied the Nevarch with expectant  
derision.

Major Shaylass' solid presence at his side was very comforting  
as Qui-Gon slowly raised the shiny band. The click of the  
closing latch was almost deafening in the heavy silence that  
reigned in the hall. The Jedi Master drew heavily on his years  
of training and experience to sustain a totally stoic  
expression as he was cut off from the Force. Inside his guts  
were churning, bile was creeping up his throat, and he felt a  
suffocating blanket of dullness descend upon his senses, but he  
was damned if he was going to give the Nevarch the satisfaction  
of even the slightest flicker of discomfort. He maintained eye  
contact with the religious leader the whole time, letting the  
silence linger for a few moments before serenely speaking.

"If there is nothing further, Nevarch Kygaro, I believe we are  
all interested in having the vote count completed as quickly as  
possible."

Bulbous eyes dark with suppressed fury, the Nevarch searched  
fruitlessly for any sign of pain or fear on the Jedi's face.  
Even with his connection to the Force cut off, Qui-Gon could  
sense that the reptile was sorely tempted to challenge the  
efficacy of the collar, despite the evidence of the earlier  
demonstration. For several more moments the hall was silent as  
the two tried to stare each other down.

The tableau was finally broken when the political leaders  
stepped back in. "Since the whole purpose of Master Jinn's  
presence is to get the votes counted, I would suggest we get on  
with it," said Jer'sardt quietly.

"I agree," added Tre'chobtez, "the sooner he finishes, the  
sooner he can leave."

"Fine," snarled the Nevarch. "We will go to the vault now."

Qui-Gon merely nodded and joined the procession as they headed  
for a side door. He was satisfied that he had established his  
own authority and that was sufficient for the moment.

 

************* ****************

 

Twelve meters long, six meters across, four meters high, the  
windowless holding room in the lower level was dry and  
relatively cool. One long wall was lined with locked, sealed  
gray metal ballot boxes; there were two narrow wooden tables  
down the middle with four simple low back chairs; and eight  
tally boards, one for each of the eight central elective  
offices being contested.

"As you saw, Master Jinn, the priests hold the keys to the  
outer door," said Jer'sardt. "There has been a continuous  
guard on the door since the ballot boxes were placed here which  
includes the Federation Marines and members from each clan.  
The room will continue to be guarded until the results are  
certified."

After entering the room Qui-Gon had taken off the restraining  
collar. As he was placing it in its case, the Nevarch pointed  
imperiously at a small vault just inside the door.

"The device will be locked in here to ensure that it is not  
switched for a fake," he sneered. "My representative will  
unlock the vault so you may put on the device whenever you  
leave this room."

Qui-Gon nodded briefly, deliberately ignoring the implied  
insult to his honesty, and placed the case within the vault.  
He watched dispassionately as a priest closed and locked the  
heavy container.

"There are four observers who will be present as you count the  
votes, Master Jinn, one from each clan and a priest."  
Tre'chobtez continued the introduction after the brief  
interruption. "One box at a time will be unsealed, you will  
count the votes on each ballot in the box and mark the ballot  
as counted, the observers will verify it, and the results will  
be added to the tally boards. Once you have finished a box,  
the completed ballots will be put back in the box, the box will  
be locked, resealed and marked, then put against the other  
wall."

"Sounds very straightforward. The tally boards appear to be of  
the abacus type and simple to use. I assume there is a way to  
lock them down each night?" asked Qui-Gon.

"Of course," said Kolnisheq scornfully. "You don't think we  
would overlook such a simple detail?"

"I am sure you have taken everything into account, I merely  
wished clarification as to the procedure," said Qui-Gon  
soothingly. He felt so much better with the collar removed  
that he would have willingly put up with a great deal of local  
attitude but was more interested in getting things moving. "Is  
there a sample ballot I could examine?"

"Of course," said Jer'sardt. She drew a package from a cargo  
pocket, then pulled out a large white pasteboard sheet. "As  
you can see, there are eight boxes, one for each elective  
office. Within each box, the candidates' names are listed and  
there is a place to mark the ballot. You do not have to enter  
a vote for every office, but you can enter only one vote for  
each office. More than one vote for an office invalidates the  
ballot."

"But only invalidates the ballot for that office," interjected  
Kolnisheq sharply. "Votes for other offices on that same  
ballot can still be counted."

"That is correct," replied Jer'sardt with a touch of  
irritation.

"And the mark must be within the designated space using only  
the black markers," added Kolnisheq.

"Yes, yes, we know all that," said Tre'chobtez acidly.

"I was just helping to explain the rules," replied Kolnisheq  
testily.

"I think I understand," interrupted Qui-Gon hastily, not  
wanting the discussion to disintegrate. "Unless there is  
anything further, I would like to get started."

"Now?" asked Kolnisheq uncertainly, caught off guard.

"The sooner we start, the sooner we finish," replied Qui-Gon  
firmly. He took off his cloak and laid it aside, then pulled a  
ballot box from the stack and placed it on a table. He watched  
the group look questioningly at each other as he gathered up  
red markers and a seal cutter.

"I agree," said the Nevarch firmly. "The observers are here,  
the Jedi is here, so let them get on with it." He did not wait  
for any discussion but turned and left. The others followed in  
a group, none willing to let any of the others linger behind.

Major Shaylass had been leaning silently against the wall,  
observing the proceedings with a sardonic expression. He  
sauntered over as Qui-Gon waited for the four observers to  
organize themselves.

"Not bad," said the Major with a smile. "I take it you  
gathered that the Nevarch doesn't care for Jedi?"

"I got that general impression," Qui-Gon replied wryly. "Don't  
worry, I'll keep an eye out for him."

"That was a good move, starting right away like that. Nothing  
like a good offense to keep them off balance," said the Major  
approvingly. "Are you going to be all right down here?"

"I think so. It would be easier if we could have food and  
water brought here instead of leaving to eat."

"I'll arrange it," the Major assured him. He hesitated a  
moment as he looked thoughtfully at the Jedi. "Master Jinn, I  
know a little bit about the Force and I've heard how important  
it is to a trained Jedi. That was a pretty impressive show you  
put on for the Nevarch, but it's going to take quite a while to  
count all those ballots. Are you sure you're going to be all  
right when you put that freaking collar on every night?"

"I appreciate the concern," replied Qui-Gon reassuringly.  
"I'll admit that it certainly isn't pleasant, but I'll survive.  
Consider it an incentive to get the job done as quickly as  
possible."

"I guess it would be, at that," said the Marine with an  
answering smile. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"If you have a separate communications system, I would  
appreciate it very much if you could send a message to the  
Temple on Coruscant to let them know I have started the  
mission. I should also send periodic status reports if  
possible."

"Our long-range comm gear is on it's last legs, seeing as how  
parts are awful hard to come by out this way, but as long as  
it's working we'll send whatever messages you need," said  
Shaylass.

"Thank you."

"See ya later," the Marine waved a salute in the Jedi's general  
direction as he headed out the door.

 

************* ****************

 

Blanket tossed aside, stripped to his shorts, Qui-Gon could  
feel sweat trickling as he tried to sleep. In the semi-  
darkness he could see the four guards that had accompanied him  
since they left the vault, three natives to watch him and a  
Marine to watch the natives. The Nevinchay was a relatively  
austere order and individual rooms, for both priests and  
visitors, were little more than a stone cell with a sleeping  
pallet, chair and small table. The pallet was too short for  
Qui-Gon to stretch out fully, the air was hot and still, and  
the plentiful native insects were not shy about making  
themselves at home, although the natives seemed to ignore their  
presence. With the collar in place, he felt dull and half  
alive, his senses smothered. The night passed slowly as he  
caught fitful snatches of sleep, and he had difficulty  
meditating when he rose at first light. Eating a light  
breakfast of cereal and fruit, he reminded himself why he was  
here. Thoughts of his Padawan cheered him until he remembered  
how many boxes he had to get through before he could return  
home.

Qui-Gon's days soon settled into a steady pattern. The high  
point of the day was entering the vault and removing the  
collar. The native observers and guards stayed at one end of  
the room, a Marine positioned himself in the middle of the  
room, and Qui-Gon retreated to the other end of the room to  
meditate for twenty minutes. The first morning there was some  
grumbling by the priest, but after the Marine casually thumbed  
off the safety on his weapon and took aim at the general region  
of the priest's privates everyone was quite content to wait  
until the Jedi Master declared he was ready to start.

Most of the day's activities consisted of opening a sealed box,  
verifying the count on the ballots cast by the head of each  
family, entering the tally ballot by ballot, and sealing the  
counted ballots back into the box. Major Shayless had managed  
to persuade or cajole the natives into bringing most of the  
noon and evening meals to the vault so Qui-Gon could stay  
inside without the Force dampener. Occasionally the day would  
be livened up somewhat when there was a dispute over the  
markings on a ballot, but Qui-Gon quickly learned not to let  
the discussion linger lest it become too rancorous. His  
authority to swiftly resolve disputes was enhanced by the fact  
that the Marines seemed to take a great interest in his welfare  
and were more than happy to bring their weapons to bear on his  
behalf. Qui-Gon suspected that their real interest was in  
getting off the planet as soon as possible, but was willing to  
take whatever help he could get. Once a day Jer'sard or one of  
the other clan heads would stop by to check on progress but  
they seemed happy to just let him get on with his work as  
quickly as possible. The Nevarch came by every other day and  
occasionally insisted Qui-Gon join the priests for evening  
meal, but outside the vault he seemed more interested in  
watching the Jedi Master for any sign of discomfort from the  
collar than in being hospitable.

One of the most exciting events of the whole stay occurred on  
the fourth day when Major Shayless came in with lunch and spent  
a good ten minutes cussing a blue streak, swearing in at least  
seven different languages and drawing an admiring glance from  
the corporal on duty. When he finally calmed down, the Marine  
explained that their long-range comm had died, there were no  
spare parts left, and the next fleet ship wasn't due in for  
five weeks. He apologized for the situation, indicating he had  
already asked the natives to send their messages out for them,  
but the local comm gear was not very sophisticated and the  
natives not particularly trustworthy, so he couldn't guarantee  
that any of the reports were actually getting to their intended  
destinations. If necessary, he would send a squad back to the  
spaceport to commandeer some airtime on their equipment, but  
recommended against that unless there was a major emergency.  
Qui-Gon sighed and thanked him for his efforts, adding the lack  
of communications to the list of reasons why he would be very  
glad to see the last of the planet Diozak.

Progress was marked by the slow but steady progression of  
locked boxes from one side of the holding room to the other, a  
slow weight loss and the increasing percentage of the tall body  
that was stricken with a red rash from the insects who found  
his relatively thin, non-reptilian skin far more attractive  
than the tough hides of the natives. The hot, Forceless nights  
were so miserable that food was of little interest, and Qui-Gon  
soon drove himself to work eighteen to twenty hours out of each  
twenty-six hour rotation. The Nevarch wanted him off the  
planet so badly that after the third day he persuaded the  
others to begin rotating shifts of vote observers to keep up  
with the Jedi Master. Between the long hours and a lack of  
appetite, the Jedi found himself losing weight, even though he  
forced himself to eat enough to at least maintain his strength.

Qui-Gon knew when he accepted it that this mission would be  
unpleasant, but had not realized just how dismal it would truly  
be. He expected that the conditions would be bad but bearable  
and was correct in that assumption; the constant guard was  
irritating, the insects that found him irresistible were a  
nuisance, the hot sticky nights left him feeling tired and  
grungy, the trickle of water that passed for a shower was  
aggravating and he missed his apprentice. His extensive  
training made the Force deprivation painful but survivable.  
What he had not expected, however, was how severely the  
sundering of his link to Obi-Wan would distress him. For years  
his Padawan had been an almost constant presence in his mind, a  
warm and comforting presence, a light that grew steadily  
brighter as their relationship deepened. The first few nights  
Qui-Gon had been so overwhelmed by the loss of his connection  
to the Force that he had not realized what else was making him  
miserable. As he grew accustomed to the stifling grayness of  
Forcelessness, he grew aware that there was an ache inside, a  
hole in his heart that no passage of time could heal, a hole  
that was normally filled by his Obi-Wan. He found that he  
could not resolve the pain, only endure it.

On the fifth night Qui-Gon was momentarily shoved out his  
personal misery when he suddenly realized how terribly selfish  
he had been in not even considering the impact the situation  
must be having on his Padawan, especially since the first  
cutting of the link must have been totally unexpected. Now  
added to his pain was guilt for not having the foresight or  
trust to explain the mission more fully to his apprentice; as  
much as he wanted to see Obi-Wan again, he was not looking  
forward to having to explain what he had done.

The emotional pain was soon accompanied by physical pain as his  
fitful dreams seemed to center more and more on his absent  
apprentice. The dreams became increasingly erotic and the  
mornings that he did not find evidence of a wet dream it seemed  
his morning erection became harder and harder to dispel. He  
knew he would need major meditation later but for now it was  
all he could to struggle through the situation and try to  
ignore the vivid images which came to fill his nights. The  
days were better than the nights; his connection to Obi-Wan was  
restored each time he took the collar off. Even heavily muted  
by distance, he felt revived by the contact, as if he had been  
dying of thirst and had been given water. After a while,  
though, he began to wonder if perhaps it might not be better to  
have no connection at all instead of the fresh agony each night  
when the collar clicked and the hole in his heart grew a little  
deeper, the ache a little sharper.

Instead of time dulling the hurt, quite the opposite happened.  
The longer he was on Diozak the more painful it became, and by  
the third week it required a concerted effort of will each  
night to impassively place the dampener around his neck under  
the watchful eye of the priests. To top everything off, he was  
increasingly anxious about not receiving any messages from  
Coruscant, and was becoming more certain that the Diozakans  
were either unwilling or incapable of sending the status  
reports he had asked be sent to the Temple. All in all, this  
was definitely one of worst missions he had been on in years.

However painful it might be, there was still a job to be done,  
and Qui-Gon was not one to allow personal issues to interfere  
with his duty. He persevered, one day at a time, one box at a  
time, ballot by ballot. Finally, early on the twenty-eighth  
day, under the watchful eyes of the three clan heads and the  
Nevarch, they added the last votes to the tally boards and  
resealed the last box. Major Shayless mobilized two squads of  
Marines for a convoy back to the capitol city while Qui-Gon  
prepared his certification report. The Nevarch insisted on  
riding back in the same vehicle with Qui-Gon and Major  
Shayless, ostensibly to help safeguard the report. In the new  
central government meeting hall, it took less than an hour for  
the Jedi Master to present his report to the clan delegations  
and attest to the validity of the results.

In the hot stillness of the evening, the Marine and the Jedi  
slowly walked through the terminal towards the exit to the  
tarmac of the spaceport.

"You could take that damned collar off now and they wouldn't  
know the difference," ventured the Major quietly.

"I would know," replied Qui-Gon softly. "I agreed to the  
conditions, and that includes leaving it on until I get off the  
planet."

They walked in silence a while longer, stopping just outside  
the building.

"I'd offer you a ride in the fleet transport, but it won't be  
here for several days," offered Major Shayless apologetically.  
"I've got some of my men holding the only other ships that are  
in port right now, but I'm afraid neither is much of a prize."

"I've learned not to be choosy, believe me," smiled Qui-Gon.  
"Whatever is ready to leave now and is heading back to  
Coruscant will be perfect."

"Well then, there's a cargo freighter with a couple of decent  
passenger cabins, big and slow, four stops between here and  
Coruscant," said Shayless. "The other ship is fast, only one  
stop, but she carries exotic animals and there isn't any  
passenger accommodation."

"I've slept with animals before, if that's what it takes to get  
back home faster," replied Qui-Gon with an even bigger grin.  
"I've found they're often cleaner than the crew and don't  
bother you with questions."

The Marine laughed and pointed toward a small ship partially  
hidden behind a bulk freighter. As they walked towards it, he  
turned serious again. They paused at the foot of the ramp.

"Ya know, Jinn, before this mission I have to admit I never  
really put all that much credence in that Jedi and Force  
stuff," said Major Shayless with a shrug. "I always figured a  
squad of Marines, a big enough gun and a badass attitude was  
enough to handle anything. I've watched you put up with a lot  
of shit, though, a lot more than I would have, but you just  
kept on plowing ahead until you got the job done without  
anybody getting hurt along the way. I could tell it wasn't  
easy for you, especially at night, but you never bitched about  
anything." He put a hand out to the Jedi. "You're a good man,  
Jinn, and the troops asked me to tell you you're welcome to  
join us if you're ever out our way."

"Thank you, Major," replied Qui-Gon as they shook hands. "I  
appreciate that. And I'd like to thank you and your people for  
all the help you provided. I would have had a much more  
difficult time here without you."

"Just doing our job," said the Major briskly. "I know you have  
good reason to want to leave quickly, so I'll let you get  
going. Good voyage to you, sir." He stood at attention and  
saluted.

"May the Force be with you," replied Qui-Gon. He returned the  
salute and headed up the ramp.

************* ****************

The five-day trip home was uneventful if rather pungent. The  
little Verellin who captained the vessel wasn't happy about  
having a passenger forced on him but acquiesced when he saw  
that the Jedi required very little support. There were no  
passenger cabins so Qui-Gon used the limited common crew shower  
and eating facilities and was content to sleep in a small  
partition in the cargo area. The exotic animals they carried  
as cargo were expensive and well cared for so the ship was  
clean and free of insects, even if it was quite fragrant. With  
the Force dampener removed, Qui-Gon was able to devote some  
extended time for a healing trance to finally get rid of the  
mass of insect bites and welts he had acquired. He spent much  
of the week meditating or simply reveling in the pleasure of  
having his bond with Obi-Wan restored, spending long hours  
examining his feelings for the young man, trying to understand  
the depth of those feelings and wondering how he had come to  
take their bond so much for granted. The erotic dreams had  
mostly disappeared once the collar was removed, but Qui-Gon  
still spent many additional hours meditating on their  
significance, hoping it was merely the Force trying to address  
his long suppressed physical attraction to Obi-Wan.

As they drew nearer to Coruscant Qui-Gon began composing a suitable  
apology to his apprentice, hoping that the apprentice had not been  
hurt too much by his Master's lack of foresight. He was a little  
concerned by the fact that he had not received any replies to  
his messages from the ship except a routine note from the  
Council secretariat acknowledging the mission completion and  
estimated arrival time, but after thinking about the date he  
convinced himself that Obi-Wan was probably too busy with his  
final exams to respond. A day out from home he had finished  
his mission report and transmitted it. By the time they  
arrived at Coruscant Qui-Gon felt much better both mentally and  
physically, having regained his center in the Force as well as  
part of the weight and sleep he had lost during the weeks on  
Diozak.

Disembarking in the late evening darkness from the shuttle at  
the Temple hangar, Qui-Gon eagerly turned his steps towards his  
quarters. He noticed that everyone he encountered in the halls  
gave him a very wide berth and realized that the reek from the  
cargo ship must have saturated his clothing; he was so used to  
the odor he had forgotten how strong it was. As he drew nearer  
to his quarters he could feel that Obi-Wan was close but was  
puzzled by how strongly his Padawan was shielding. When he  
entered the silent quarters he called out in case Obi-Wan had  
friends over, but there was no response. Qui-Gon dropped his  
travel pack in the common area and went to knock on the closed  
door of his apprentice's room. He knocked softly once more,  
calling out "Obi-Wan?" as he eased the door open. An empty  
room met his disappointed gaze. He sighed regretfully and  
turned toward his own room. ~ Oh well, at least I can finally  
get a real bath ~ he thought ruefully.

Qui-Gon pushed open the door to his room and was reaching for  
the light sensor when a rustling noise caught his attention.  
From long habit and training he called his lightsaber to his  
hand as he automatically slid sideways away from the open  
doorway and assumed a defensive stance, leaving the weapon  
unlit for the moment. Listening carefully, he detected light  
breathing and another slight rustle. Reaching out with a  
tendril of Force, he activated both the overhead light and his  
saber. The next moment, however, he let the weapon fall  
harmlessly to his side as he straightened and stared at the  
sight before him.

Clad in an old torn pair of workout leggings, muscular body  
stretched out on his left side, a young man lay on the large  
bed clutching Qui-Gon's pillow to his chest. Stormy gray eyes  
stared intently at the Jedi Master. Nostrils flared slightly  
as the pillow was slowly crushed in a white fisted grip.

"Obi-Wan?" said Qui-Gon uncertainly, tossing his lightsaber  
onto his desk. This was not at all the reception he had been  
expecting. "Is something wrong, Padawan?" He reached out  
tentatively over the bond as he took a step toward the bed.

The apprentice rose smoothly from the bed in a single rolling  
motion, tossing the pillow aside. He advanced rapidly upon his  
Master, pushing him back against the wall, then quickly  
riffling the pockets of the cloak until he found the case  
containing the Force dampening collar. Obi-Wan pulled the  
collar out and glared at it before holding it up in front of  
Qui-Gon's face. Through clenched teeth, he slowly spit out,  
"You . . . bloody . . . bastard." He then stepped back, flung  
the collar viciously across the room, and stood staring  
furiously at his Master.

Qui-Gon was too stunned to move. This was not at all the  
affectionate, dutiful Padawan he was used to. He could feel  
anger being held tightly in check over the bond, but without  
knowing the source he was at a loss as to how to respond. The  
matter was quickly taken out of his hands, however.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and almost choked. "Force, you  
stink," he gasped. "We're going to talk, Sith take you, but  
first you're going into the fresher."

"Now wait a minute, Padawan, just what is going ... mmhph." Qui-  
Gon's words were abruptly muffled by a cloak yanked forcefully  
over his head instead of its usual route off his shoulders. By  
the time he untangled himself he found that his belt had been  
tossed aside and tunics were being stripped off as he was  
forcefully marched into the fresher. The next several minutes  
were never totally clear in Qui-Gon's memory afterwards. He  
had muddled images of a grim, silent Obi-Wan efficiently  
stripping him, splashing into a steaming bath, being roughly  
but effectively scrubbed and getting a mouthful of water every  
time he started to protest.

Sitting on the common area couch in fresh leggings and  
undertunic, skin tingling from the brisk cleansing, damp hair  
loosely pulled back, the Jedi Master looked in bewilderment at  
the stranger standing in front of him with arms crossed, face  
closed.

"Padawan, what is going on?" he demanded.

"I found out what you did," said Obi-Wan in a flat, dead voice.  
His eyes were gray, flickering with suppressed emotion, and the  
bond again held an undercurrent of anger.

"I know there are some things we need to discuss, but first you  
will explain to me what you think I did that has upset you so?"

The apprentice stared at him for a long moment before speaking  
softly and slowly, voice so low the master had to strain to  
hear, "After everything we've been through together, I thought  
I knew you. I thought we trusted each other, believed in each  
other, supported each other." Clenched hands fell to his side  
as a bitter smile chased itself away. "I actually believed you  
when you said I was a good apprentice and how much I meant to  
you. I thought you understood how much it means to me to be  
your Padawan, that I truly believe it is my duty and privilege  
to be at your side, to go on missions with you." Obi-Wan  
paused for a deep breath. "I had to find out from someone else  
that you asked to change this last mission so you wouldn't have  
to take me. You didn't even tell me you were taking a Force  
dampener, and I went through hell because of you. Six weeks  
you were gone and I hardly heard from you even though you told  
me it was an easy mission. You promised to take care of  
yourself and you come back looking like you haven't eaten or  
slept in ages."

"Obi-Wan, I'm sorry about not telling you about the Force  
dampener," Qui-Gon interrupted. "I didn't want you to worry  
about me and I just didn't think before I left. While I was  
away I realized it would affect you and I meant to apologize  
when I came back. Truly I am sorry."

Red spots flamed on each cheek in the pale face as the eyes  
flashed. One shaky hand raised to point an accusing finger.  
"And what else have you not told me? How many other times did  
you arrange to leave me behind? What am I supposed to think  
about our relationship?"

Qui-Gon stood up, his hands out placatingly. "Obi-Wan, I swear  
this is the only time I have ever asked that you be excused  
from a mission. I did it for you, if you will just let me  
explain -"

"It's pretty obvious what happened," the apprentice interrupted  
bitterly. He started to turn away.

Qui-Gon was rapidly losing patience with the situation.  
"Padawan, you will at least do me the courtesy of hearing me  
out." He reached out for his apprentice and ended up grabbing  
his left forearm, gripping hard and twisting sharply.

With a scream of pain the apprentice turned white as his knees  
buckled. He slid down, clutching the left arm that his Master  
had released in astonishment. Qui-Gon felt a wave of pain  
flood their bond, replacing the anger that had hung between  
them.

Qui-Gon knelt down to face the young man, trying to comfort  
him. He gently pried the fingers loose and stared aghast at  
the angry red scar that stretched almost halfway down the inner  
arm from the elbow. "Oh Force, Obi-Wan, what happened?" he  
whispered. He embraced Obi-Wan as the apprentice's shoulders  
began to heave.

"Master, it's been awful . . . we didn't hear anything from you  
. . . bond broke . . . fell . . . ," Obi-Wan mumbled between  
choked-back sobs. "Changed the mission . . . every night . . .  
the bond . . . tried to stay angry . . .. " With a final gasp he  
grabbed Qui-Gon tightly and buried his head against his Master's chest.  
" . . . thought you were dead . . . it hurt so much . . . ."

Qui-Gon held his troubled apprentice tightly, rocking gently, as  
he sent soothing waves of healing energy toward the distraught  
young man. He could feel the edges of his apprentice's  
shielding crumbling under the combined weight of physical and  
emotional pain and caught chaotic visions of falling, blood,  
sleepless nights, fear, and doubts slowly turning to anger.  
For several minutes they knelt together, holding each other, as  
the pain and turmoil gradually diminished. When the exhausted  
apprentice finally fell silent, the Master gently picked him up  
and placed him on the couch. He fetched a glass of water and  
wet cloth from the kitchen and tenderly wiped the pale, tear-  
stained face, helping the young man sip from the glass he held  
with shaking hands.

Obi-Wan put the glass down and pulled up enough to allow his  
Master to sit down on the end of the couch. He leaned back  
into Qui-Gon's embrace, both men seeking comfort from the  
physical contact. They sat silently for a few minutes,  
allowing emotions to settle.

"Padawan, we clearly have some things we need to work out,"  
Qui-Gon said softly. "Please, tell me what happened here while  
I was gone."

"Yes, Master," replied Obi-Wan, still a bit shaky. He drew a  
deep breath before continuing. "Everything was fine the first  
week or so after you left, Master. I went to class, practiced  
drills, all the normal activities. I did what you suggested  
about trying to enjoy Bant's Nameday party, and actually I did  
have a very nice time. It was at the party, though, that  
Master Koon stopped by for a few minutes to talk to Bant's  
Master. He remarked on how well the party was going and told  
me I must be happy that Master Jinn had gotten the solo mission  
to Diozak. I was surprised, of course, but when I asked Master  
Koon to explain he just said the Council had made the change in  
mission and he left quickly. I didn't think much about it, but  
I was starting to get concerned when you were late getting to  
Diozak. Of course, we finally did get your message explaining  
about the problems on your outbound trip. In fact, Master Yoda  
himself brought me your message before he left to go offplanet  
to a conference." Obi-Wan paused, found the glass, and took  
another sip of water.

"I have to admit it was rather a misadventure getting to  
Diozak," said Qui-Gon with a small smile. "It was never really  
dangerous, though. Please go on."

"Well, I thought things would just go on normally. I did have  
a very strange dream one night, very unsettling, but I couldn't  
remember much about it. That next day, the late afternoon  
training session, I was working the high aerial obstacles . . ."  
the quiet voice trailed off into silence as the apprentice  
sat rubbing the new scar. Finally he shook himself a little  
and continued. "It was near the very top of the course that it  
happened. Suddenly the training bond went completely silent, I  
couldn't feel anything at all, and everything went sort of  
black." Obi-Wan shuddered. "I vaguely remember grabbing at my  
head, falling . . . I suppose I must have screamed . . . then I  
was on the floor. There was a lot of blood . . . I couldn't  
feel my left arm, but when I looked down there was a long hole  
with white jagged ends of bones sticking out. The next thing I  
remember was waking up the next day in the Healer's ward with a  
big cast on my arm." He closed his eyes, then reached up with  
his right hand to grasp Qui-Gon's arm. He whispered, "Master,  
all I could think of when the bond went cold was that something  
horrible must have happened to you. I thought you must be  
dead."

Qui-Gon tightened his embrace and rested his chin on the  
apprentice's head. "Obi-Wan, I'm so sorry. It had been years  
since I had had to use one, and I just didn't think about what  
might happen to you when I had to put the Force dampener on."

"It was quite strange when I woke up," Obi-Wan went on in a  
detached manner, almost unheeding of his Master's words. "I  
tried to explain what happened to the Healers, but they  
couldn't find anything wrong except my broken arm and a lot of  
bruises and cuts. That afternoon, though, within an hour or so  
of the first time, the bond died again. This time a Healer was  
there when it happened and she told me afterward I moaned,  
shook and tried to withdraw into a fetal position. I  
remembered feeling cold, feeling like I was falling into a  
black hole, reaching for you and I couldn't find you. When I  
woke up a bit later, I felt cold and empty, like part of me was  
missing. Master Windu was there with the Healer when I awoke.  
He explained to us how you had asked to change the mission and  
about the Force dampener you were required to wear part of the  
time while you were on Diozak."

Obi-Wan fell silent for a long moment, his breathing shallow.  
Qui-Gon continued to hold him, moving his head further down so  
his left cheek rested against the side of the apprentice's  
head. Finally the young man shrugged and continued.

"The Healers let me leave after the third day but most of the  
next month or so was pretty much the same. The arm was so  
badly broken in several places that I had to go back for  
treatments almost every day, in fact they just took the last  
cast off a few days ago and it's still quite sore. I went to  
classes, studied, and waited every day for that awful moment  
when the bond died, never knowing exactly when it would come.  
We had hardly any word from you, and over time I started to  
have doubts about why you had gotten the mission changed and  
started to think about a lot of other times when I had wondered  
how many other things you hadn't told me. It was hard to  
sleep; I had to move into your bed to get any sleep at all. I  
had special meditations the Healers gave me to help when the  
bond was gone but they didn't seem to help much. Master Yoda  
was gone and I didn't trust anyone else enough to go to." Obi-  
Wan's breath hitched and his grasp on Qui-Gon's arm tightened  
even further. "I know it was wrong, but I was in so much pain,  
had let doubts replace trust, and I tried to use anger to make  
the pain go away. It would work for a little while, but even  
tonight I had to work at staying angry. I'm sorry, Master, but  
it hurt so much I just didn't know what to think or do any  
more. And I'm sorry for the way I treated you tonight."

"It's all right, Obi-Wan," replied Qui-Gon quietly. "We've  
both made mistakes. I do trust you and love you. You have  
been a wonderful apprentice and have worked hard toward  
becoming a Jedi Knight. I believe in you with all my heart."

"I should have trusted you, Master, and not let my feelings get  
twisted."

"You were in a difficult position, Padawan, and I did hold back  
some information from you. That was my fault and there was no  
reason I should have done it." Qui-Gon gave a small, self-  
deprecating snort. "I really did have good intentions when I  
started, Obi-Wan. We had been working so hard for the last few  
years that I wanted to try to do something to reward you, but  
it seems to have backfired rather badly."

Obi-Wan sat up and twisted around to look directly at his  
Master. "Reward me?" he asked, a puzzled frown on his face.  
After a few seconds he narrowed his eyes and cocked his head  
sideways. "Are you talking about Bant's Nameday?"

"I knew how much you missed your friends, Obi-Wan, and you had  
talked about the Nameday party for months. You had been such a  
good Padawan that I wanted very much to do something for you.  
When I first got the notification about a new mission I knew  
you would miss the party so I asked for either a delay or a  
change." Qui-Gon paused, looked away for a moment, then  
returned his gaze to his apprentice. "I ended up having to go  
to the Council; the only thing they could offer was the mission  
to Diozak, so I took it. I apologize for not telling you what  
I did, but I believed you deserved to stay and I thought you  
would enjoy the break."

"Master, Bant and I are Jedi," replied Obi-Wan gently. "We  
both know that duty comes first and we would have both  
understood about having to go on a mission. My place *is* with  
you." He grinned knowingly, "Somehow I doubt the Council just  
smiled graciously and offered you a new mission. Did they tell  
you about the Force dampener?"

Qui-Gon smiled a little sheepishly as he answered. "Well, I  
did have to ask much more nicely than usual. And yes, I knew  
about having to wear the collar when I accepted the mission."

"Master, with your connection to the Living Force, you must  
have known how miserable wearing a Force collar was going to be  
. . . ," Obi-Wan trailed off with a shuddering breath.

Reaching over slowly, Qui-Gon took his apprentice's left arm  
and gently turned it scar side up. He lightly caressed the  
raised skin, eyes focused on the angry scar. "Obi-Wan, I would  
face far worse for you. I regret not explaining everything to  
you, and I am very sorry for what you had to go through while I  
was gone." He looked up, blue eyes bright with emotion. "The  
worst part was missing you. If it is any consolation, I didn't  
sleep too well either, and it was very painfully clear to me  
just how important you are to me."

Silence stretched between them for a long while until Obi-Wan  
finally spoke. "Master, there was something else," he said  
hesitantly.

"Yes, Obi-Wan? You know you can talk to me about anything."

"Well, there were dreams . . . ," the young man said, shifting  
uncomfortably and blushing furiously.

"Dreams? What kind of dreams?"

"I didn't miss you just emotionally." Obi-Wan licked dry lips,  
eyes riveted to the large hands still absently fondling the  
livid scar. "I dreamed about you . . . physically."

Time and breath stopped for the Jedi Master as hope suddenly  
blazed brightly. He ruthlessly tamped it down again, knowing  
it was his duty to ensure that his Padawan took the lead in any  
potential physical relationship. Stilling his hands, he  
carefully replied in what he desperately hoped was a neutral  
tone. "Would you like to talk about your dreams?"

Face still red, Obi-Wan swallowed before answering. "Master,  
you know I'm not exactly a virgin. I've been with men and  
women, and I enjoyed both. I've had those kind of feelings for  
you for a while, but you never gave any indication that you  
might have . . . physical . . . feelings for me. If anything,  
I always had the impression that you didn't want me at all that  
way. I was going to wait until I was Knighted to bring it up,  
hoping you might feel differently when we more equal in rank,  
but I had the most incredible dreams." He looked up, gray eyes  
shifting to bright blue-green. Obi-Wan slowly took Qui-Gon's  
hands, holding them clasped together. He continued softly, "I  
dreamed about making love to you, and it was the most beautiful  
thing I had ever experienced. I would wake up, and I would cry  
because it wasn't real. One of the reasons my anger grew was  
the frustration of wanting you so badly, not having you, and  
not knowing if I would ever be able to have you." He tightened  
his grasp on the large hands. "I can't wait any longer, Qui-  
Gon Jinn. I love you, I want you, and I have to know if there  
is any possibility that you could return those feelings."

"Obi-Wan, if you only knew," Qui-Gon whispered. He took a deep  
breath. "I have loved you, desired you, for a long time, but  
it was never my place to push my desires on to you. If this is  
truly what you want, I would welcome the opportunity to make  
love with you, my beautiful Obi-Wan."

"I want," Obi-Wan replied firmly. To demonstrate his  
sincerity, he pushed Qui-Gon back and proceeded to thoroughly  
claim the surprised Master's mouth.

When they both came up for breath, Obi-Wan stood up and glared  
down at the bemused Jedi Master.

"Now then, Qui-Gon Jinn, we've got one more thing to settle."

Qui-Gon stared up at his apprentice in bewilderment, his wits  
still fuzzy from the recent assault. "Uh, what is that, Obi-  
Wan?"

"Before you left for Diozak, you promised to take care of  
yourself, but just look at you. Fifteen pounds lighter, not  
nearly enough sleep, and that whiff when you came in was enough  
to stampede a herd of banthas. It's pretty obvious to me you  
didn't do a very good of keeping that promise. So, on your  
feet, now." He hauled Qui-Gon to his feet, then grabbed the  
Master's tunic with his good hand. With a wicked gleam in his  
eye, he began pulling Qui-Gon toward the large sleeping room,  
calling over his shoulder in a no-nonsense tone, "Your  
punishment for not properly fulfilling your promise is that you  
must spend the night helping me break in the new sheets on  
*our* bed."

"Yes, Padawan," replied Qui-Gon meekly as he let himself be  
dragged off. ~ This is a side of Obi-Wan I look forward to  
seeing a lot more of ~ he thought as a happy gleam came into  
his own eyes.

finis


End file.
